Starstruck

Chapter 13a: Stress-energy tensor (part 1)

CHAPTER 13

Stress-energy tensor (part 1)

My world had been knocked askew several times over the past couple of days, but now it tilted even further on its axis. Surely there must be hidden cameras somewhere? Though I'd nearly managed to accept that I was Martian in origin, the idea that I might really, truly be a Martian princess was just too outlandish.

"But . . . didn't you just say there isn't a throne anymore? I mean, if the monarchy was overthrown, that means I'm just--" Just a regular person after all. Well, a regular person from Mars, but still.

"You're not 'just' anything, Marsha." Mr. Stuart's voice was unexpectedly stern. "For countless generations, we've looked to the royal family, and particularly the Sovereigns, for leadership. The respect, the reverence, our people have for that office and the person holding it is deeply ingrained. A mere dozen or so years under an upstart despot hasn't changed that."

Shaken, I looked to Rigel for confirmation--or a return to sanity. "They're . . . they're really not kidding?"

Slowly, he shook his head. I thought his eyes held a touch of sadness, which seemed strange. "They're really not. That's why it was so important to find you. I'm not much on the politics, but my folks say there's still a lot of resistance to the new leaders."

"Yes," Dr. Stuart said. "And it's growing. The new regime is growing more and more oppressive and even some of its most ardent original supporters are becoming disillusioned, wondering if they made a mistake."

"Which they did," Rigel's father said forcefully. He obviously had very strong feelings about all of this.

But to me, it sounded more and more like a dream--or maybe a science fiction novel. Shying away from the whole politics/royalty thing, I focused on the part I really cared about. "So . . . what exactly happened to my grandfather?"

There was another one of those speaking silences between Rigel's parents before his mother answered. "Though we Martians, as a people, are nonviolent, I'm afraid--"

Mr. Stuart interrupted her. "Those now in power have found a way to overcome our natural--and adaptive--aversion to killing. I'm ashamed to claim them as brethren."

"Are . . . are you saying that my grandfather was . . . murdered?" Their bleak expressions answered me. I felt a sudden sense of loss that surprised me, given that I'd never known him--or even known of his existence until a few minutes ago.

"And what about my parents?" I almost whispered the words.

Dr. Stuart took my hand again, with a reassuring squeeze. "We have no reason to believe their deaths were anything more than an unfortunate accident."

"How?" Somehow, it was important that I know this.

"An automobile accident," Mr. Stuart told me, his voice gentler than I'd yet heard it. "Their car went off an embankment into a river and they were drowned. At the time, it was assumed that you drowned with them. But then, just a few years ago, my father came across evidence that you had survived and set us on our search."

I was both relieved and saddened to know the truth. All my life I'd made up stories about what had happened to my parents, from the mundane to the bizarre. I was glad it was closer to the mundane. I opened my mouth to ask about the evidence he'd mentioned when Dr. Stuart let go of my hand with a start.

"Oh, goodness, look at the time!" she exclaimed. "We need to get going immediately if we're to keep Marsha from getting into trouble at home."